Unobtainable (8 page)

“And cigarettes.”

“I gave those up years ago,” Harley said, putting the cereal box back on the shelf and closing the cupboard door. “I have the odd one now and then, besides, I was dealing with some hefty shit the other day, and you can’t blame me for one moment of stupidity.”

Here I was sounding like my mother, I had no right to be scolding Harley but then again he wasn’t protesting, oddly enough.

“Make me a shopping list and I’ll go to the market after I shower,” I told him, as I left the kitchen and started to scale the stairs.

“Why don’t I go with you?” he called up to me, as I walked along the balcony to the guest room.

“Like a real married couple?” I laughed, leaning over the heavy iron rail. “I can manage alone, I’ve been doing it for years, alone is what I know.”

“Pfft, well you better get used to having your space invaded for the next six months, hotshot. You’re going to be begging for alone time before it’s up.”

“My time alone has taught me to survive,” I told him, before turning away and walking into the guest room, yelling out the door, “You don’t need to spend time with me. Pretend I’m not here. Carry on as if I weren’t. I promise I won’t get in your way, I’ll stay in my room most of the time.”

I looked down as I closed the bedroom door and noticed Harley still standing staring up at me. If he got much sexier he was surely going to be the death of me or the reason for my subsequent blindness, because I was going to be spending an awful lot of time jacking off just to get through the nights…and days.

~Harley~

Dyson was playing it cool, acting as if keeping a distance was going to be easy. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that distance was going to be the hardest part of each day, and night.

I watched the guest room door close just as it did last night, and I sighed, remembering.

EJ threw us a less than marvelous reception dinner. A barbeque serving hamburgers and hotdogs with sides of macaroni salad and potato chips would have been an improvement over the dried out cold cuts and stale buns. At least there was a nice wedding cake that Selma, Clayton’s wife, had made for the occasion and the bar had happily been an open one, thank God.

When it started to rain, instead of taking the party inside we were graciously sent packing. I can’t say I was heartbroken, I was actually looking forward to spending time alone with Dyson.

Being as he was somewhat withdrawn and mopey, I suggested a few beers, some cereal and TV. The suggestion to sit and cuddle was sitting on the tip of my tongue and the question of consummating the marriage weighed heavy on my mind also. Dyson and I had parted company just after midnight with a quick peck on the cheek and our bedroom doors closing.

My nightmares snatched me from my sleep at five thirty and I quietly made my way to the gym, running for two hours. I drank four cups of coffee ate two bowls of cereal and read an old Sports Illustrated from front to back before I heard Dyson’s shower start.

It was kind of nice starting my day with someone else, even if he was a little on the ornery side this morning. My offer to go shopping was real, I would have gladly gone with him and the more I thought about it, the closer I came to the decision to go meet my grumpy husband and help him with domestic chores.

~Dyson~

Just about every unhealthy thing on Harley’s list, plus everything else I could find that was healthy, was packed into the shopping cart. A pair of soft lips touched the crest of my ear and I heard a faint whisper.

“Cocoa Puffs,” I heard a second time and shot around.

“What in the world are you doing here?” I asked.

“I didn’t want you to forget my favorite cereal,” Harley laughed. “And the milk, I think I forgot to put them on the list.”

“No you didn’t,” I said, holding out the list. “Milk’s right here and I scratched out the cereal and replaced it with Cheerios.”

“That’s not fucking cereal,” he made a face like I had offered him a mouthful of cow shit. “That’s what you feed a hamster. I’ll get it myself.”

“What are you really doing here?” I asked.

My head was all over the place today and I didn’t want to subject Harley to my mood, that’s why I had insisted on shopping alone in the first place. I guess the aftermath from the hillbilly hoedown wedding had done a real number with my emotions. I was running the full gamut, happy to be married to Harley, sad that it wasn’t real and angry that it wasn’t forever. And as selfish as it sounded, I wanted the wedding night with my husband making sweet passionate love to me while I in return rocked his world until he begged me to stop. He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t give that to me, Harley had made that clear and I was forced to accept it.

“I can go back home?”

“Here,” I handed him the box of Cheerios, not wanting him to leave. “Go get your cereal, I’ll meet you in the produce section. You know, where they keep real fruit and vegetables.”

While filling a paper bag with fresh button mushrooms, I looked up and noticed Clair with her friend Connie loading up on lemons and limes. I was going to keep my head down and veer off in the other direction, but as I placed my mushrooms into the cart Connie called out and pointed Clair in my direction.

“How are you doing?” Clair asked, placing her hand on my arm with a benevolent look. “I heard.”

“You heard what exactly?” I asked, feeling sudden panic poke at my guts.

“That you didn’t get married on time,” her hand tightened as she shook her head sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.”

At least the secret of the wedding hadn’t leaked as promised. As far as the world was concerned I had not made it on time, the details remained undisclosed. Harley would be happy to know we were still very much hush-hush.

“You’re mistaken Clair, there was most definitely a wedding,” I assured her. “I did get married. It was a very private ceremony with family only. We chose to keep it quiet and intimate.”

“And the day after you’re grocery shopping?” Connie looked at me like my head had just popped off of my shoulders and rolled down the aisle between the onions and potatoes. “Most newlyweds would be on their honeymoon or at least be spending the next day in bed. You’re one of those guys that once you’re married the romance goes out the window, aren’t you?”

Connie placed her hand on her hip and looked me up and down with an unimpressed look on her face. It was obvious that Clair had not shared my being gay with her friend who was staring me down, like I was some kind of a male chauvinist pig from the dark ages. If looks could kill she’d have me six feet under.

“We put off our honeymoon until a later date,” I said, I was going to have to get used to lying, no matter how hard it was. “We both have work obligations we can’t get out of right now.”

This lying thing was going to be tough.

“She must be one very understanding gal,” Connie faked a titter.

Clair raised her brows and laughed at Connie’s comment. Clair had known for as long as I’d known her that I was gay, it wasn’t a secret between us. She had a sixth sense from day one and had called me on it. We had an agreement that she kept it quiet although she was always encouraging me to come out so she could find me my Prince Charming and I’d be whisked off into
Happily Ever After
.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harley halt in his tracks, hiding behind a rack of salad fixings, it was comical to watch, but broke my heart that I couldn’t brag and show him off as my husband. I would have loved to have seen the look on Connie’s face when she saw the hottie I managed to bag.

Lies, lies and more lies.

“Nice ring,” Clair said, lifting my hand for a better look. “Does your hubby’s ring match?”

“Yes.”

Harley had bought our bands, they were black titanium with a knotted white gold inlay, I didn’t understand the meaning behind them but they were unusually beautiful.

“Hubby?” Connie asked, her voice echoing through the building, causing people around us to look our way.

Hilarious!

She was totally caught off guard and I loved seeing her squirm as Clair revealed I was gay. She was a snotty little cow, one of those stuck up little rich bitches from South Heights, the better-than-everyone-else side of town. Connie was cringing internally. I had seen that reaction far too often in the past to mistake it. Normally I would take pride in adding to her discomfort but I couldn’t be bothered wasting my time on her today.

“I better go, I don’t want to keep my husband waiting,” I gave Clair a peck on the cheek and shook Connie’s hand, watching her wipe it on her pants after. “It was nice to see you again Connie. See you at the office in the morning, Clair.”

“Bu-bye,” Connie called over her shoulder, happy to be anywhere but near me.

“Sorry about her, she’s-”

“Not comfortable,” I finished Clair’s sentence. “Not to worry, see you Monday.”

“See you.”

I found myself standing waiting until the girls were out of sight before heading to the checkout. I didn’t bother to look for Harley, the way he reacted spoke volumes. I didn’t need a piano to fall on me to make me aware that he didn’t want anyone who knew us to see us together. I didn’t see him again until I got to his apartment and exited the old-style cargo elevator. It took a bit of getting used to, that thing, but once I learned how it worked, I was away to the races.

The heavy side-sliding front door opened and Harley was standing there. I could tell by the expression on his face he wanted to apologize, but I was quick to stop him. Why bother, I already knew.

“Help me with the rest of the bags, there’s freezer goods that need putting away ASAP,” I said, passing by with my arms full.

“I didn’t realize it was going to be so difficult,” he said, placing bags on the counter and running back for the remainder.

“What’s so difficult about two friends shopping?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Let’s get something straight right away because I can’t live with this awkwardness,” I said, as I filled the freezer. “You did your part. You said I do and signed the papers. You don’t owe me, if anything I owe you. So relax and go about your business like I’m not here.”

“But you are here.”

“Then,” I struggled with what to say, “Pretend I’m the housekeeper…your fucking maid. I’ll cook and clean and stay out of your way otherwise.”

“You make me sound like a fucking douchebag,” he sat on a stool with a pout on. I swear to god he had a pout on. “I never said I didn’t want you here, and I don’t need a fucking maid,” he started laughing.

“What?” I asked, with my hands on my hips.

“I got a visual of you in one of those little black maid outfits with a white apron and a duster in your hand.”

I rolled my eyes, the man was confusing. One moment he made me feel like he was ashamed to be near me and the next he was joking and making me feel like he wanted me there.

“How did I look?” I asked, reluctantly.

Harley smiled, “Not half bad, you have the legs to pull it off.”

“You are seriously disturbed.”

“Wine?” Harley asked, taking two wine glasses from the cupboard above the sink and a bottle of wine from the wine cooler under the island.

“Why not? I’m not going out anywhere else today, I won’t be driving,” I agreed, while I finished putting away the groceries. “What would you like for dinner?”

“What would you like to make me,” he teased, handing me a glass.

“How about I make farfalle pasta, I bought it fresh and vodka sauce?”

“Mmm…”

“Great, you put on a pot of water while I visit the little boys room,”

“Isn’t that the maid’s job?” he asked, and was greeted with a damp tea towel to the face.

We talked about my buying a new car while Harley watched me grate cheese and add it to the sauce. My old wheels were close to retirement. I was now checking out trucks. It was a tossup between a Ford 150 and a Ram 1500 with an extra cab. My little BMW had served her purpose but it was time for a manlier vehicle.

We ate our pasta, finishing the bottle of wine and had fallen asleep together on the couch while watching a movie. I think Harley was feeling more comfortable with me and I was glad we had an agreement of sorts. Since we had to work in the morning, I stirred Harley and we walked up the stairs together to our rooms.

“Goodnight,” I said, opening the guest room door, which had been designated as mine.

“See you in the morning,” he tittered, stepping forward, taking my chin in his hand and gently touching his soft lips to mine.

“What was that?” I asked, wide eyed, my heart racing when he pulled back.

“That was a kiss goodnight for my new husband. It’s my way of saying I’m glad you’re here,” he said, a roguish smile curling the corners of his beautiful mouth. “And that you’re going to make one fuck of a great maid.”

His door opened and closed and I stood in the hall with my mouth gaping open and the beginnings of a healthy boner. I didn’t need a shower but I sure as hell was taking one as I stroked myself threw my sweats and got prepared for a little alone time.